With the exception of the ones I made up, I don't own these guys. Thanks and enjoy!
John made his way, yawning into the kitchen. "Hey! I thought you had to work today?" He said, coming up behind Christa and placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"Is that all I get?" She teased. John responded by kissing her deeply, leaving her breathless. "Well…that's more like it." She smiled. "Sit down I made breakfast."
John sat down at the table, and Christa placed a mug of hot cocoa in front of him. "Thanks. You didn't answer my question."
"Do you really think I was going to leave you alone after what happened last night?" He looked down and avoided her eyes. She smiled and lifted his head to look at her. "I love you." She kissed him softly on the forehead. "Hmmm, you don't feel as warm. Fever's breaking."
"Actually, I took a couple of aspirin before I got in the shower." He watched as she puttered around the kitchen, a feeling of contentment washing over him. Having her here just feels…right somehow. He sighed. "Christa?"
"Hmmm?" She replied without turning from the stove.
"You don't have to cook for me."
"Yes I do. I've seen you make toast." She laughed. "Relax, I like cooking. And it's more fun to do it for someone besides myself for a change."
They were quiet a few minutes, the only sound being the rain pattering against the windows. "Another rainy day." Christa mused.
"I guess so." John swallowed. "Christa, I've been thinking. Wouldn't it be easier for you to just…keep some stuff here? I mean, it's closer to work and I could pick you up after your shift if you wanted to… I mean if you wanted me to…aww crap, I'm no good at this…" He muttered looking down into his cup.
Christa grinned. "Why John Tracy, are you asking me to move in with you?"
John looked up, his eyes wide, a blush creeping over his face. "No, yes…oh hell, just forget it."
She walked over and nudged his arms aside so she could sit in his lap. "John?" He looked up, his face still pink. She ran her fingers through his hair. "I'd love to." She kissed him gently. "In fact, I was trying to think of a way of asking you without freaking you out."
"Takes more than that to freak me out." John smiled.
"I'll have to remember that." She got up and turned off the stove, placing an omelet in front of John. "Eat up before it gets cold." She poured herself a cup of coffee and placed the dishes in the dishwasher, all the while chatting easily with John.
"That was great Christa. Thanks." He got up and put his plate in the sink. "What do you want to do today?"
Christa looked at him, her indigo eyes wide with disbelief. "You're not doing anything! Do you not remember last night?"
John closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. "I remember it fine." He said softly.
"Then maybe you can explain to me what that was all about."
John shook his head. "I…I can't."
"What do you mean you can't? John I thought you were dying last night! I think I deserve some kind of explanation!"
"It was just a nightmare."
"Bull. That was no nightmare. That was a seizure."
John turned to look out the window. "Christa, I can't tell you. It has to do with…with my work."
"That…attack you had was something to do with your work?" Christa snorted. "I'm not stupid John."
"I never said you were."
"Then give me a little credit here." Christa marched over and faced him. "You kept saying 'Help me, make him leave me alone'. Who did you mean? Your father?" John shook his head. "Then who? John talk to me!"
"Christa I can't OK! I just can't!" He turned and fled out of the kitchen. A moment later she heard the front door slam.
Rushing to the window, she saw him walking quickly up the sidewalk. At least he was smart enough to put on a jacket. Then sighing to herself, she finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes and sat down in the living room to wait until he returned.
John stalked down the street, belatedly noticing that the jacket he had grabbed was his new leather one, which thanks to the rain, was now ruined. That realization and the rain trickling down his neck, made his already black mood even darker.
He continued to walk aimlessly, until finally he stopped to catch his breath and take in his surroundings. Somehow he'd managed to end up in the North End. And a rather unsavory area of the North End at that. Spying a seedy bar on the corner, he broke into a light jog and went inside. The interior of the establishment matched his outlook on life, drab and lonely, the only bright part being Christa.
Shaking his head to get her image out of his mind, he walked up to the bar. "Whiskey, straight." He said to the bartender.
The man poured a shot of the amber liquid into a glass and handed it to John. He downed it in one swallow. The cheap liquor burned as it went down his throat, causing him to cough and his eyes to water. "Again." John said hoarsely. The second went down as quickly as the first, and John motioned for another. "Just leave the bottle."
"How about you pay for it first." The bartender drawled.
John fished out his wallet and threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar. "That cover it?" The man nodded and the bill disappeared into his pocket.
John was nearly half-way through the bottle when he finally noticed the rumblings around him. He spied one of the bar's occupants staggering towards him, and right before the man would have crashed into him, John stepped back. The man fell forward, right on his face. He got to his feet in an instant, glaring at John. John grinned. "Gotta be careful. The floor's kinda slippery."
The man snarled. "We don't need no pretty boys hanging around here, so why don't you just get out."
John shrugged. "I'm not finished my drink."
"I think you are."
"Whatever." John turned back to the bar, seemingly ignoring the man. The man lunged towards John again, and John neatly side-stepped and the man went flying over the bar, crashing into the bottles lined up behind it. He groaned once, then lay still.
John turned to face the crowd which had gathered around him. "Anyone else want to give it a try?" He said calmly.
The bartender tried to interject. "Hey, no fighting! Take it outside."
"It's raining outside Tony. Don't worry, this won't take long." Another man, this one even taller than the first advanced on John. "You're gonna pay for what you did to Donny, pretty boy."
John met the man's gaze unflinchingly. "I'm shaking in my boots."
The man swung his fist at John's head. John ducked, at the same time aiming an uppercut of his own at the thug's stomach. It was like hitting a brick wall. John staggered back, clutching his right hand. The man leered. "Time to teach you a lesson pretty boy." He raised his fist again, but this time John was ready and feinted to the left, at the same time bringing his whiskey bottle down on the man's head. He went down as hard as his friend did.
John grinned ferally. "Who's next?"
This seemed to be the signal for the rest of the bar's occupants to move in. John eyed them warily, waiting for them to make the first move. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the bartender picking up the phone, but knew this would be over long before the police could get here.
One man, this one skinny and long haired rushed John. Without missing a beat, John swung his leg in a roundhouse kick, dropping the man instantly. Two more surged forward and John was able to take down one of them with another well placed kick. The second managed to get a hard punch into John's ribs and he gasped with pain. He staggered back, falling over one of the prone bodies on the floor. It turned out to be for the better, as John was able to grab the ankle of his attacker and flip him to the floor. John scrambled to his feet and with another sharp kick, sent the man into dreamland.
By now the bar had erupted in chaos as the men tried to take down John. For his part, John felt as if he was acting independently of his body. His mind registered what was happening, but his body was seemingly on its own. He lashed out at anyone who came close, managing to hold most of them back. One was able to get in close and grabbing John by the shoulders, rammed him against the wall. John's head came into contact with the wall, and everything dimmed for a moment. He shook it off and eluded the next blow, taking the man down. Two more followed suit.
Finally the constant pain in his chest slowed him down and he found himself backed up against the same wall. The man in front of him pulled out a knife and grinning hugely, slowly slashed it back and forth.
"You're mine now pretty boy." He leered.
John gulped, his eyes darting around, trying to find an escape. There was none. He was gasping for breath, and his vision started dimming around the edges. "Sorry, you're…not really my type." He shook his head, trying to clear it.
The man scowled. "Let's take care of those pretty boy looks right now." The man leapt forward, his blade flashing. John spun, trying to evade the knife but the man was too quick.
John cried out as the blade cut through his jacket, slicing into his upper left arm. John fell to his knees, clutching at his arm, waiting for the final blow. It never came.
"POLICE! EVERYBODY FREEZE!"
John breathed a sigh of relief. He staggered to his feet, just as the bar spun around him.
"Hey buddy, you OK?"
John heard the voice but was having trouble focusing on where it was coming from. "Buddy?"
"Jesus! He's been cut. Call an ambulance!"
John tried to protest, but everything grayed out. "Watch it! He's going down!" John felt arms around him, carefully lowering him to the floor before everything went dark.
Virgil bolted upright out of a sound sleep at the sound of the scream. Realizing it had come from his brother Scott's room, he tore across the room and opened the door. "Scott!"
Scott burst from his room, clad only in a towel, his face red with anger. "I'll kill the little bastard." He growled.
Realization dawned. Gordon. "Better get some clothes on first." Virgil quipped and ducked back into his own room. Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head. Guess I might as well get up. Virgil stepped into the shower, and let the scalding water run over him. Wonder what the little punk did to Scott this time. He laughed to himself as he rinsed his hair. Glad it wasn't me. Stepping out a few minutes later, he quickly ran some gel through his hair, styling it as usual, then got dressed and headed to the kitchen to get some breakfast.
Onaha smiled as he entered. "Good morning!"
"Morning Onaha. Lovely day!" Virgil smiled back and poured himself a cup of coffee.
She stopped for a minute and stared at him. "Yes it is indeed." She said finally.
Scott was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him. He scowled, not looking up. "Yeah, wonderful."
"So, what did he do?" Virgil asked, sitting down in front of his brother. Scott merely scowled again. "C'mon bro. Spill it." Scott mumbled something Virgil couldn't hear. "Speak up, not all of us have super hearing."
"He put fake mice in my shower."
Virgil looked baffled for a moment, then burst out laughing. Scott looked up, frowning, then the frown turned to a smile as he gazed at his brother.
Finally, Virgil stopped laughing and noticed his brother's smile. "See, even you have to admit, it's kind of funny. Lighten up."
Scott, still grinning, shook his head. "You obviously haven't looked in a mirror this morning have you?"
Now it was Virgil's turn to frown. "Yes I have, I just got out of the shower."
"Look again."
Virgil frowned for a moment, then walked over to look at his reflection in the toaster. "The little creep! It's green!"
"He probably thought it would compliment Thunderbird 2." Scott deadpanned.
Virgil glared at his oldest brother. "He couldn't have done this alone."
Scott shook his head. "Nope. Looks like the two of them have kissed and made up."
"Terrific…" Virgil slumped down on the table. The he looked up with an evil grin on his face. "Want to go after them together?"
Scott's grin matched his brother's. "I'd love to."